


Golden

by AmandaHuffleduck



Category: Thor (Movies), Wallander (UK TV)
Genre: Crossover Pairings, Hiddlesworth, M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-05
Updated: 2013-02-05
Packaged: 2017-11-28 07:18:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/671763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmandaHuffleduck/pseuds/AmandaHuffleduck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Magnus gets tiddly and picks up a stranger.</p><p>Inspired by a lovely pic by Yanagoya that popped up on my dashboard... Check out her other stuff, it's goooood...</p><p>(I haven't figured out inserting links an things here yet, so here's the plain url:  http://hiddlesworth.tumblr.com/post/21765425928/yanagoya-so-kay-i-will-admit-that-mid-way-it )</p>
            </blockquote>





	Golden

**Author's Note:**

> Don't try and reconcile the Wallander-Thor time frames, you'll only hurt yourself.  
> Think of this as an AU/AR.

(Does putting a link in work here? [Let's find out!](http://hiddlesworth.tumblr.com/post/21765425928/yanagoya-so-kay-i-will-admit-that-mid-way-it))

Magnus Martinsson was pissed. Well – he glowered in to his half-finished beer – he wasn’t _drunk_ pissed, yet, though the way he felt that was certainly an option worth pursuing.  
No, he was pissed _off_ , royally pissed off, if his pissed-off-ness could be measured it’d be…  
He floundered, his vocabulary failing to come up with anything suitably… suitable. _Whatever_.

He drained his glass then held it up to signal the bartender that yes please, he would like another, thank you. The next beer landed in front of him, delectable and frothy, and Magnus took a moment to appreciate it’s lovely…amberyness. Okay, okay, perhaps he was a little more along the path to drunk pissed than he’d realised but you know what? _He didn’t care_. He would happily stumble in to work tomorrow with a massive hangover because he didn’t fucking care. Why should he? No one would notice anyway.

Enough of that. Magnus gulped a few mouthfuls of beer and set himself to brooding on the true cause of his discontent.  
 _Kurt Bloody Wallander_.

The man was practically a basket case, so immersed in his own misery it was a wonder he was able to function at all let alone solve crimes. And everyone trod so softly around him, careful not to push for fear he might crack. In the meantime he, Magnus, was doing good work, work that generally nobody else wanted to do, or worse, work that become redundant when _Kurt Bloody Wallander_ decided to take the investigation off in another direction! And was his good work even acknowledged? Was it hell!  
Okay, perhaps that wasn’t quite true, but it happened often enough that it was stupidly gratifying when his contribution was acknowledged. He was a damn good investigator, a damn good police officer, he shouldn’t have to put up with this shit… 

  


The mirror ran the length of the bar and Magnus idly, reflexively, tracked his gaze along its length. Reflected in the glass the other patrons moved behind him like shadows, disconnected and unreal for all that some of them were boisterously loud and drunk. 

There was one other man at the bar, a few seats away. Magnus studied him obliquely: he looked big, like there was hard muscle beneath the shirt. He was bearded, blond, with what appeared to be longish hair haphazardly caught back somehow at the nape of his neck. 

“You’ve had plenty, sir.”  
“Do I seem to be in my cups to you?” His voice was commanding, carried well, and currently straddled amused and annoyed.  
“No, I don’t suppose so.” The bartender admitted grudgingly. “But the first sign of trouble from you I’m calling the police, understand?”

Magnus had to snort at that: he _was_ the police and he doubted he'd be able any use at all against this guy.  
He glanced again at the blond's reflection... experiencing an uncomfortable jolt when their gazes met in the mirror. He was tempted to pretend he hadn't seen anything, to let his eyes slide to the side, but the guy half-smiled and raised his glass in an obvious salute. Magnus returned the salutation, his heart fluttering with the beginnings of alarm when the guy stood up. Unreliable projection from a wonky surface or no, he looked tall, taller possibly even than Magnus, and broad with it.

"Good evening, friend. May I sit with you?"  
"Uh..."  
"I am tired of drinking on my own."  
"Oh, in that case..."  
Magnus silently cursed his politeness but swivelled on his stool to face the man, and held his hand out. "Magnus."  
The hand enveloping his was big and warm, the grip strong but unthreatening.  
"Thor. Thank you for your forbearance, Magnus." His eyes were very, very blue.  
"It's the least I could do for a visitor."

This was a guess on his part: Thor's Swedish was fluent but oddly accented. He couldn't pin it down: Icelandic, perhaps? Not Norwegian, not Eastern Bloc...

"Very perceptive." Thor's grin was amiable but he didn't elucidate. "What is it that you do, Magnus?”  
"I'm a policeman." Magnus had learnt from experience it was best to offer this information honestly, baldly even.  
“A seeker of truth and dispenser of justice. A noble vocation.” The blond lifted his glass again in salute and Magnus chuckled self-consciously.  
“That’s not the usual reaction I get.”  
“No?”  
“No, people will either make excuses and disappear with their guilty conscience, or they’ll want to know all the gory details. How someone died; how a robbery was pulled off... Which are you?"  
Thor laughed.  
"I enjoy a good tale so probably the latter, but – " his grin broadened. "I swear I will not question you about those matters."

Magnus grinned in response then, feeling the need to pull away from his companion's strangely compelling regard, he glanced down, noticing that their knees were very close. He also noticed that his thighs were quite slender in comparison to Thor's. He stopped himself there, absolutely, definitely not checking out the other man's crotch, and dragged his attention back up to the blond's face.

"What do you do?”  
“I’m in the family business. Security.” Thor shrugged.  
“You here on business now?”  
“Of a sort.” He gave Magnus another of those half smiles. “Following up some things.”

Thor finished his beer in a few long swallows then carefully set the glass down on the bar. His actions seemed oddly hesitant, giving Magnus not unpleasant tingles in his spine as he deduced what was likely coming next.

"Forgive me for being forward..." How could someone that big, who projected the confidence he did, suddenly seem so... shy? "Were you in need of companionship tonight?"

 _Rape, robbery, murder_. As a policeman Magnus had had to deal with the aftermath of peoples' lapses in judgement before: taking a stranger home after a night of drinking was right up there at the top of the list of bad decisions.

"Uh, sure." _What the hell was he doing?_ "Coffee? My place is close."

  


The night was beginning to chill as they left the bar, but the sky was clear and the waxing moon was just visible over the skyline.  
Thor was only a little taller than Magnus but the breadth of the man's shoulders, and the solid musculature of his torso – barely veiled by his plain, blue shirt – combined to make Magnus feel both thrilled and uneasy at the possibility of being overwhelmed. Oh, he could fight if it became necessary, and he wouldn't hesitate to fight dirty if it came down to his survival, but it had been years since he'd felt he was at the mercy of a stronger partner. The sudden surge of empathy took him by surprise: was this what it was like for women?

"This is a beautiful town." Thor remarked fondly.  
"It is." Magnus was almost surprised to find he agreed. He'd never really thought about it before. "I like it here."

  


Compared to a lot of the architecture in Ystad his building was considered 'modern', having been built in the 1960's. It was utilitarian in form and function, concrete and steel, but the exterior was kept an immaculate white and the sea blue window trims were neat and orderly. 

Magnus had a corner apartment on the third floor: he and Thor trekked up the three flights, their footsteps echoing in the stairwell. Jogging up and down those stairs multiple times a day contributed to Magnus' fitness and he was pleased to be sweat free and breathing easily when they reached his door. Thor, likewise, seemed to be unfazed by the small exertion. That was... promising.

Magnus ushered his guest inside, surreptitiously checking to see if he'd left anything incriminating or embarrassing lying around. He hadn't expected to bring company home tonight so he hadn't bothered tidying up. It wasn't too bad in here, fortunately, just the usual clutter of living.  
And then he remembered the state of his bedroom and almost winced. Perhaps they could avoid that room?

"Do you really want coffee?" He asked.  
"No." The blond was smiling and already moving in close, pressing Magnus back against his door, reaching for the buttons on his shirt.

The rush of lust made his head spin and Magnus fiercely shushed the inner, responsible, voice prompting caution. He reached up and around Thor's arms, grapping fistfuls of the man's hair and pulling him down for a brutal kiss. Thor left off fiddling with his shirt, leaving it hanging open and untucked, opting instead to bear down on Magnus with the full length of his body, tangling his fingers in fair curls.

 _Too much_. Magnus broke the kiss, sucking in air, understanding dimly that the only reason he was still standing was because of the grip he had on Thor.

"Couch." He growled at the assertive light in his companion's eyes. "Don't even _think_ about carrying me. I can still walk." His insistence wavered as a broad warm hand settled over his groin, massaging firmly.  
"Really?" Thor's voice appeared to originate now from somewhere in his lower belly, the force of it rumbling against Magnus' skin. "Are you so sure?"  
Magnus swallowed a whimper then resolutely pushed against rock hard shoulders.  
"I _can_."

Thor stepped aside, flushed and grinning, as his host didn't quite stagger away.

It had taken Magnus a long time to find the perfect couch, one that was long enough for him to fully stretch out on. He collapsed on to it now, settling on to his back and toeing off his shoes as Thor advanced. He spread his thighs in invitation, reaching up to get the blond out of his shirt even as he was kneeling between his legs. Eager? _Shit_ , yes.

"God, you're magnificent.” He breathed, smoothing his hand over tanned skin and unquestionably splendid muscles. “Golden."  
"Thank you." Thor acknowledged the compliment with a gracious tilt of his head, shining strands of his hair falling about his face and shoulders. "And you..." He leant forward to brush unruly curls away from Magnus' forehead. "... are sunshine. On water." He smiled ruefully. "I have not the word skill of some."  
Magnus subverted his giggle to a hopefully more masculine but no less inane grin.  
"Oh, you're doing fine." 

Thor was wearing a metal pendant on a leather thong, a kind of chunky upside down 'T' that looked vaguely familiar, though Magnus' curiosity was being quickly subsumed by a haze of rising lust.  
He sighed out deeply, just shy of groaning and tilted his head back as Thor first nuzzled his throat then began kissing down his chest. He couldn't help himself, canting his hips up to grind against the solid body above him.

"Patience." Thor advised, nipping gently along the line of his lowest rib, almost tickling, almost diverting him from the hand unfastening his trousers. His attention focused sharply on the warm, broad kisses moving over his abdomen and lower – Thor had slid off the couch to kneel beside him at some point – and he lifted his hips again, this time to help with the baring of his groin.

Magnus' trousers and underpants, pushed down around his knees and restricting his movements, were a distant distraction to the sensation of damp heat enveloping his cock. He watched, involuntarily wide-eyed, as Thor took the length of him deep in to his mouth. Magnus did groan then as something rippled and swirled against the underside of his penis. That fabulous cock-sucker, and Magnus meant that most sincerely as a compliment, glanced up at him, blue eyes darkened and shining, clearly enjoying himself. 

Thor _worked_ him, lavishing attention on his cock and expertly bringing him by stages to the point of orgasm. Magnus was at the brink and suddenly assailed by the ghastly suspicion that his partner was going to back off and tease - it'd happened before - but no, an assured press of fingers just behind his balls sent him howling over the edge...

  


While he recovered, winded and gasping like a landed fish, Thor efficiently whipped away his trousers, underpants and socks. Magnus watched somewhat helplessly as his guest then undressed himself to stand gloriously nude and mostly erect beside him. Magnus licked his lips.

"Lube." He declared then rolled and half-fell off the couch, not bothered by Thor's amusement. "Wait." 

He wobbled to his feet, regaining control of his legs as he tottered off to his bedroom.  
He didn't bother turning on the light but stumbled around the piles of stuff on the floor as he felt his way over to the bedside cabinet. He rummaged blindly in the drawer, muttering a triumphant ' _yes_ ' when his fingers closed around the tube of necessary. There were condoms in there as well but after a moment’s consideration Magnus decided to leave them: the glimpse he'd had of his guest's prick indicated that they probably weren't going to be the right fit anyway, and besides, the way things were going it was unlikely _he’d_ be doing any penetrating tonight. As for potential consequences, well, most things were curable, or at least manageable nowadays, right?

Magnus straightened and turned to leave, had only taken a step or two before he was startled to walk smack in to a wall of warm, smooth skin. He hadn't heard Thor follow him in.

"Uh, hi." He gestured vaguely towards the living room. "I thought we could – "  
"Will not the bed be more comfortable?" Thor's hands slid up his chest and over his shoulders, pushing his shirt out of the way. It dropped to the floor behind him, just something else to be picked up later.  
Magnus sighed, tilting his head to the side, exposing his neck to more kisses.  
"... but this room's such a mess."  
"Then we shall leave the light off." Thor murmured, gently but insistently pushing him down on to the bed. 

Magnus let himself be urged over on to his stomach, then hauled, with care, back and up so his hips were resting over Thor's solid thighs, his legs falling to either side of his body.  
The position left him unable to move easily and that little voice of common sense and caution was still squeaking dire warnings in his head but he purposely ignored it in favour of savouring the unexpectedly, deliciously lewd sense of being open and vulnerable.  
Magnus undulated his hips as much as he could, delighting in the feel of their cocks rubbing and bumping against each other. He grinned wickedly at his companion's bitten back oath: he wasn’t completely without power here. 

One of Thor's hands came to rest on his lower back, soothing and steadying, followed shortly by the circling and gentle, questing press of a lube-slicked bluntness against his anus. His body yielded without much effort to one finger, two were more problematic but Thor apparently knew what he was doing and was in no hurry. At three fingers, with accompanied leisurely stretching, Magnus was in danger of losing his mind to the threatened overload of sensation. He was panting, fingers clawing and twisting in the bed linen, thighs straining against Thor's broad body.

"Ready?" Thor was no less breathless.  
"Yes, yes, I'm good, let's go."

And then somehow Thor was beneath him, and Magnus' legs were spread wide straddling the blond's hips. Between them they worked inch by inch to get Thor seated inside and Magnus was sweating and hanging on to the wooden headboard like it was the only thing keeping his soul in his body. His sight adjusted now to the dark, Magnus could make out his companion's face, could see his eyes opened wide as he stared at him. 

"Take... take your time." Thor's chest was heaving and his large hands were practically quivering with tension were they lightly gripped his hips.  
"Fuck that." Magnus smirked, lifting himself up then pushing back down again determinedly, a wild sort of joy bubbling in his chest as he forced a lush moan out of Thor.

The first few strokes were naturally awkward as he found his rhythm - Magnus braced himself against the headboard, straining forward to find an angle that suited them both - but from then on it was just hard and furious fucking, both of them wound too tightly for subtlety or finesse. 

Magnus' awareness shrank to Thor's cock pounding inside him, that strong body shuddering between his thighs. Thor's fingers were digging in to his hips hard enough to hurt, if distantly at this point, and his head was thrown back, mouth open, but even so Magnus was taken by surprise when the blond's grip suddenly tightened further and he was pushed down hard and held still.

 _Oh_.  
Magnus blinked dazedly but had the presence of mind to stop trying to move as Thor climaxed.  
"All right?" He murmured, pleased with himself but still trying to catch his breath.

Thor nodded and yanked him down for a panting, sloppy sort of kiss. Magnus grinned in to his mouth then twitched as a hand wriggled between them, heading unerringly for his rigid cock. Distracted by his partner's orgasm he'd almost forgotten about himself but that all came rushing back now as Thor stroked him. Quicker than he'd have thought possible Magnus was coming strongly enough that lights sparked behind his eyeballs while tingles rushed out to his extremities. _Wow_.

"All is well?"

Thor sounded smug but Magnus could forgive him that. He nodded, tempted to just collapse forward and pass out on that broad body, with that cock still up his arse. He made the effort though, helped by Thor, easing himself off the blond then tumbling gracelessly to the mattress. Thor rumbled a laugh and scooped him in to his side, slinging a big arm easily around his shoulders. 

Feeling sleepy and pleasantly used, Magnus unashamedly snuggled in, reaching up to play with Thor's pendant. Now that he had more than two brain cells to rub together he recognised the emblem.

"Thor's hammer."  
"A present from my parents when I came of age."  
Magnus poked a finger at it.  
"It's heavy. What's it made of?"  
"Meteorite, or so I was told."  
"Uhuh..." Magnus was feeling the pull of sleep. "You're welcome to stay if you like. But just warning you..." He yawned broadly. "... I have to be up early."  
"I understand." Thor nuzzled the top of his head. "And thank you, I would like to stay."

They lapsed in to silence, drifting together in to slumber. Magnus' hand still rested on Thor's chest, his fingers curling over the pendant, at peace and utterly safe.

  


**Author's Note:**

> This was going to be a one-off smutty PWP but as frequently happens [stop laughing, Alestrel] I now have a comprehensive plot and several pages of notes for a possible continuation.  
> It will have to sit for a bit, though, cos I need to ponder, and research... and flail a bit.


End file.
